


A New Assignment

by manic_intent



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: makinghugospin, Extended Version, Gen, Modern AU, That weird AU where Javert is a failed police dog and is now Madeleine's guide dog, Why did I even write this?, but hey at least it is gen, or something, sorry guys this fic is probably boring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 10:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Javert sits up at attention when his old handler, Gisquet, lets himself into the mayor's office, excited, but Gisquet doesn't immediately look at him - Gisquet glances over at Javert's new human, instead, and only after receiving some sort of signal does he amble over to give Javert a pat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Assignment

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt needed a lot of real life handwave, but oh well, AU…! :3 Also, no bestiality in this fic. Original prompt: Javert is a failed police dog - now guide dog, and Madeleine is blind. OP asked for an extended storyline involving the Patron-Minette.

I.

Javert sits up at attention when his old handler, Gisquet, lets himself into the mayor's office, excited, but Gisquet doesn't immediately look at him - Gisquet glances over at Javert's new human, instead, and only after receiving some sort of signal does he amble over to give Javert a pat.

Maybe they're going home, back to the precinct. Javert hopes so. He's been on this new assignment for over a week, and in some sort of special training for months before that, and he's restless. He misses Gisquet and Gisquet's pack, the other dogs and handlers, even the old training. Especially the training. If his new, assigned human wasn't so kind, Javert might have even thought his reassignment some sort of punishment. 

"How has he been, Monsieur?" Gisquet asks, and the new human, Madeleine, gropes fingers awkwardly against Javert's scruff until he reaches his ears, tickling them. 

"Perfect."

"You don't need to do this for him," Gisquet continues doubtfully. "He was too aggressive for the police - that would make him far too aggressive to be a guide dog. And aren't guide dogs usually trained from puppies? Monsieur le Maire need not force himself to-"

"I was not lying." Madeleine's hand drops away, and a little disappointed, Javert lies back down. "Javert passed the guide dog tests with flying colours. You've seen the results yourself."

"I am not disputing that-"

"Monsieur Gisquet, surely you understand - a man like me is more than willing to extend another living creature a second chance."

"Ah, Monsieur," Gisquet mutters, "But you are a man, and Javert is a dog."

"And he is indeed the most intelligent dog I have met, just as you have told me once before." 

"Even so-"

"Putting him down would have been a waste," Madeleine declares, with heavy finality. "And I have managed with no dog before and just a cane. Javert's company is a pleasure, and again, I thank the Sûreté for their handsome gift."

This seems to tie up the conversation. Javert does not quite understand the words, but he knows when he is being praised, and his tongue lolls out for a moment, pleased. Gisquet pulls up a chair, and he talks to Madeleine for a while. Javert ignores most of the chatter since he doesn't hear his name any further, watching the door, instead. He's on duty. After all, he understands that as long as he wears the harness currently over his back and shoulders, he is working, and as different as his current task is, it is still a task. The new training he had been through had taught him as much. 

Gisquet leaves, eventually, after giving him another pat, and Javert feels a little disappointed. He's not being reassigned, then. His tail droops, and he ignores Madeleine's secretary as she walks into the room to update him on his schedule. Javert doesn't like her. She always smells a little of fear when she looks at him, a little of lust whenever she looks at his new human. 

Javert doesn't like it - it unsettles him on a nascent level, somehow. He sits up noiselessly as she leans across the table, reaching out to touch Madeleine's wrist as though to emphasize a point, and he bares his teeth, just as silently. He's large enough that his head just about clears the desk, and she sees him instantly.

Startled, she draws back, frightened. "Alice?" Madeleine prompts, frowning and puzzled. 

"Oh, no, your dog, sir. It startled me." 

"Oh?" Madeleine arches an eyebrow, and Javert takes the opportunity to settle his muzzle over Madeleine's lap. As he had thought, his gets him another scratch over his ears, and he huffs, pleased. Madeleine isn't anything like Javert's old handler, but he's a pleasant enough human, and he's Javert's. Gisquet had been clear enough on that account. "As you can see, Alice," Madeleine adds, gently, "There's nothing to be worried about. He's a very friendly dog."

"All right, sir," Alice says doubtfully, and finishes whatever she has to say quickly. Javert is glad. Madeleine's pack is as big as Gisquet's, but unlike Gisquet's pack, he's chosen his pack mates poorly. Javert instinctively dislikes most of them: they are soft humans who easily show fear, and there are no other police dogs, which is even worse. Only the pack mate who guards the door is tolerable, and Javert always allows him a quick pat in passing. 

"Javert, I have a meeting - we need to get to the car," Madeleine tells him, and Javert gets to his feet, waiting for the grip at the handle of the harness before moving.

Guiding his human around obstacles is hardly challenging, nor is opening the door with his paws, and Javert occupies his mind by considering, as usual, whether any of Madeleine's pack has so improved over the last few hours as to be worth retaining. His conclusion remains the same, even as they reach the lifts, and he rears up to press the down button. He selects the basement of the building once within the lift, and gets petted - Javert starts to wag his tail, but stops. He's still on duty.

The pack mate who controls the car is also acceptable, Javert supposes, even though he is rather elderly, as the human opens the door and Javert guides Madeleine into the car. He smells efficient and he isn't afraid, and he isn't stupid enough to try and distract Javert on duty. "Not on the floor, Javert," Madeleine instructs him, as he presses briefly against Madeleine's knees on the floor of the car, "Come up here." 

Javert takes up a great deal of the seat, but he doesn't stick his head out of the window when Madeleine rolls down the glass, as much as he's tempted to. He's not some pointless pet dog. He has a purpose. He does, however, allow his tongue to loll out briefly in pleasure when Madeleine scratches at his scruff. 

"He's a good dog," the driver pack mate comments, and his eyes meet Javert's briefly at the driver's mirror. 

"That he is," Madeleine agrees, and despite himself, Javert's tail thumps against the seat once, pleased. The new human is soft and permanently injured, nothing like Gisquet, and although this should unsettle him, it doesn't. Javert likes Madeleine. The human is too free with his praises, but Javert has been taught to ignore distractions.

"When I heard of the matter at Arras I thought that you were crazy to take him on as a guide dog, boss. But I suppose you know better."

"There's nothing wrong with him."

The driver pack mate snorts. "He weighs, what, forty kilos? And those teeth - he can kill you in a heartbeat if he wants to, just like he killed those men."

"They _did_ attack his handler."

"But he wasn't given an attack order - wasn't that in the papers? And instead of just driving them back like police dogs are trained to do, or biting non-essential body parts, he went for their throats. Boss," the driver pack mate notes, when Madeleine sighs, "I'm an ex-cop and I still get some chatter filtered down to me when I ask for it. The word in the Sûreté is that Gisquet had to let that dog go because he became afraid of it." 

"Javert is a good dog," Madeleine repeats, though he adds, a little sadly, "I'm not sure if he's bored, though. Sometimes I think that he is. Guiding an old man around can't be as exciting as police work."

"He's your risk," the driver pack mate says, uncomfortably, "And you're the one with a little girl. Do you really trust him around her? Even _normal_ German Shepherds are-"

"He's given me no reason to think otherwise," Madeleine says firmly. "Fauchelevent, I know you mean well. But I've decided to try and help Javert. He saw his handler in danger and in pain, and he reacted as he thought right. Perhaps he should not have killed those men, but he should not be put down just because for once he acted beyond his own training in order to save a life." 

"Suit yourself, boss," the driver pack mate sighs, and the scent of tension eases a little. "But you had better be very careful with this one. Especially around your little girl."

II.

The meeting is at another office that smells strongly of air freshener and cleaning materials. Javert occupies himself by silently baring his teeth at anyone who dares try to jostle Madeleine, and settles down proudly beside Madeleine's chair in the conference room when he notes that an appropriately respectful berth has been maintained. These humans aren't pack, and are even less deserving of notice.

Whatever they are here for, the discussions are long, boring and circular. Javert organises scents in his head from the various other humans in the room and finds most of them wanting. None of them smell clean, healthy and confident like Gisquet's pack, and none exude the calm gentleness of Madeleine. He doesn't know why Madeleine is here. Surely one of Madeleine's inferior pack members would have sufficed. 

It's another strange peculiarity about Madeleine's pack that Javert has observed. Although there's a clear hierarchy, as there should be, Madeleine himself seems to attend to a great deal of inconsequential and boring activities. On the other hand, his assignment with Gisquet had always been highly structured. Whenever Javert was on the job, there was always a task that definitely needed his assistance with, whether it was chasing down someone or sniffing out illegal substances and items. Everything was important and Gisquet or his pack would be there, watching and quick to instruct or assist. 

Here, Madeleine spends large amounts of time talking to non-pack, walking about, moving from one place to another and, for the most part, not utilizing most of Javert's skillset save for navigation. He doesn't even usually instruct Javert outside of telling him where he wishes to go. Javert is bored again, and he sighs, then he feels ashamed of himself. 

This is a task, not a hobby. Even if his new human is clearly not as adept at handling a proper dog, Gisquet _had_ given Javert the mandate before he had left Javert with his new assignment: _stay with, listen to, protect_. Javert cannot feel bored. He will become sloppy.

And then one of the humans gets angry, shouting and pushing a sheaf of papers roughly over the table, right in front of Madeleine, jabbing his finger threateningly in the air inches before Madeleine's nose. Javert rears up, slapping a paw onto the papers, and he growls menacingly, outraged. 

Instantly, Madeleine's hands are in his scruff, then groping for his handle on the harness. "Javert, _sit_."

"That's not a guide dog," the human stinks of fear now on top of his anger, but at least he's backed off, even as Javert reluctantly obeys. "That's a murder weapon! I've seen the papers!"

"The dog is nothing of the sort." Madeleine says, with his same calm gentleness, though there's steel in his tone now, and Javert hasn't heard that before. His ears perk up, interested. "Now, you were saying, Adrien?"

"I don't want that thing in this room. What if it attacks the next person who gets into a disagreement with you? It killed those-"

"He'll do nothing of the sort."

"Still, Monsieur le Maire," the human Adrien retorts, "This is just like bringing a loaded gun into a negotiating table and leaving it in plain sight. I must object."

Madeleine sighs. "I am a blind man and this is my guide dog, Adrien. But if you truly will feel safer without Javert in the room…"

Adrien backs down, red-faced with embarrassment, and Javert is satisfied. Happy, even. He hadn't thought that Madeleine had it in him, but it's clear now why Madeleine is a pack leader, just like Gisquet. His current task might be boring, but his new human is a good human. This must be why Gisquet had assigned him to Madeleine. After all, Gisquet is surrounded by good pack members, humans and dogs alike, while Madeleine is isolated save for two passable humans. Javert will be vigilant.

Javert's in a good mood even as they stop at a cafe for lunch. The cafe is familiar, though he's unimpressed as the waitress coos over him, but at least he gets a bowl of water. Training instructs him to wait before ingesting any unfamiliar food or water, though, so he doesn't even look at it. "You can drink," Madeleine tells him, after a moment, and only then does he bend his head. 

He lifts his eyes when a pair of young female humans approach, though. He doesn't like their scent, and he bares his teeth at them as they start to head towards Madeleine. Quickly, they turn away, and Javert relaxes. His tasks with Gisquet before had usually involved areas with few non-pack, irrelevant humans - humans whom were neither prey nor help-humans. He isn't entirely sure how to deal with them without instruction, and Madeleine offers none, so Javert resolves to just be conservative about his threat estimates. He doesn't want to let something like Arras happen again. That had almost been a major failure on his part, and Gisquet had been hurt - had nearly died. 

The thought of Arras darkens his mood for a moment, and he almost lets out another sigh. Madeleine is answering a call on his phone, the driver pack mate close by to assist. Javert glances at the driver, and the driver averts his eyes. Satisfied, Javert looks back to the cafe, hierarchy assured.

"… we'll take his complaint under advisement, Alice," Madeleine is saying, sounding amused, and he absently reaches for Javert, his hand groping empty air for a moment until Javert presses his muzzle against his fingers. "Guide dogs are allowed everywhere in France."

Coffee and sandwiches arrive for Madeleine and the driver pack mate, and although the waitress keeps a respectful distance from Javert, as she should, she does smile prettily at him, placing a small bowl on the ground with some raw meat in it. It smells good, and safe, but he ignores it, until Madeleine briefly puts his hand over the receiver. 

"Thank you, Anna."

"And a little something for your dog, compliments of the chef," the waitress says, cheerfully. "He's such a beautiful dog, Monsieur. May I pet him?"

"Of course you may. Javert, why don't you thank Anna for the present?"

Javert knows how to answer this one - he extends a dignified paw, and the waitress shakes it, then scratches behind his ears. He supposes that the waitress would be nominally acceptable as a pack mate, if only as a provider of food and drink, but it isn't up to him to decide. 

"Maybe he doesn't like steak?" the waitress says doubtfully.

"No, he won't eat what he isn't told to. Javert, you may eat."

"What a clever dog!"

Javert eats, nosing the bowl about until he's done, and the waitress makes a strange deal of fuss over a simple endeavour, though she does leave with the bowl when it's empty. 

"… as I was saying - yes. No. Run the other article," Madeleine continues to talk into his phone, the cadence of his voice soothing and gentle, and Javert decides to watch the street. The driver pack mate, after all, can probably be trusted to watch their back.

When Madeleine finishes the phonecall, he places the phone in a pocket, and runs his fingers over the table until he finds the coffee cup, lifting it for a sip.

"Got a complaint?" The driver pack mate asks.

"Adrien Passard always complains over one thing or another. He was a little alarmed by Javert."

"Trouble?"

"Not for us." 

"That old accountant is all bark, no bite," the driver pack mate says gruffly, "If Javert can't tell the difference between bluster and a real threat-"

"He can," Madeleine interrupts. "After all, Adrien still has all of his fingers-"

"He still has his _throat_ ," the driver pack mate mutters, but Madeleine doesn't seem to hear him.

"-so let me worry about it. Javert is a very sweet dog." 

Javert stares at Madeleine in suspicion - he's fairly sure that he just heard his name associated with a word that Gisquet normally used to refer to donuts, and seeing this, the driver pack mate grins, the scent of tension about him dissipating. "Hah! He knows when his own master is telling a great big fib. Javert's a smart dog, I'll give him that," the driver pack mate concedes, and pulls a strip of bacon out from his sandwich. "Here, boy. Want some bacon? Can he have bacon?"

He does want bacon, but he waits until Madeleine nods before sitting up straighter and snapping the piece of meat out of the air. The driver pack mate, Javert concludes, may stay.

III.

The rest of the work day is uneventful. The youngest member of Madeleine's pack, a pup by the name of Cosette, is already home when they return, and she helps Madeleine unbuckle Javert's harness, setting it on a rack. She greets Madeleine before flinging her little arms around Javert's scruff with a little squeal of delight and a hundred little girlish endearments. He endures it patiently, and allows her to hang on to him as Madeleine touches his hands to the walls and guides himself towards the kitchen.

The housekeeper has been and gone, and there's food on the table, but Cosette insists on feeding Javert first before touching her own plate, and then showers him with attention through her own meal. He's tired and all he really wants to do is lie down at Madeleine's feet, but it seems to please Madeleine for Javert to respond to Cosette, so he does, fetching things for her when she tells him to and offering his paw when she wants to 'shake'. 

"How does Javert even know what a box of paintbrushes is?" Cosette asks, as Javert brings it over in his jaws. 

"I don't know, Cosette," Madeleine tells her, amused. "Did you point at it?"

"Maybe. But he's smarter than that," Cosette insists. "Javert, bring Elliana to me, please." 

Javert cocks his head, then surveys the room. He knows the object that she's referring to, but it isn't in the living room. He pads up the stairs to the second floor of the house, investigates Cosette's room, plucks up the doll gently, and heads back down. Cosette laughs prettily when he drops the doll in her lap. "Correct!"

"He's a good dog," Madeleine agrees. "Come here, Javert." Javert pads over, wagging his tail as he pushes his muzzle against Madeleine's outstretched hand, and accepts a pat. He's happy, and all of a sudden, he's a little less homesick. This is not a good pack, but it isn't irreparable. "Cosette, you have to do your homework before playing with Javert, and you have to go to bed at nine."

"Ten," Cosette counters, beseechingly, and they agree on nine-thirty. Madeleine feels his way up the stairs, Javert on his heels, claws clicking on the wooden stairs and he waits intently in the bedroom as his human sorts through bedclothes unhurriedly by touch and habit. 

"You're off duty now, Javert," Madeleine tells him wryly, as he usually does, but Javert waits watchfully anyway, at least, up until Madeleine adds, "Go and check on Cosette." 

Javert turns to go, though he doesn't exactly want to - watching pups, especially human pups, is exhausting. Thankfully, Cosette is more well-behaved than most, and doesn't try to grab for his ears or his tail when he sits down on the floor next to her at the cleared dining table. She's engaged in a task that Madeleine terms Doing Homework, and Javert knows better than to help distract her when she slips off her chair and tries to play with him. He pointedly nudges her back up, and she pouts at him, but turns her head back to her books. Javert is patient. 

Eventually, Madeleine returns, smelling of hot water and soap, making his way carefully down the steps, then heading slowly towards the couch on touch and memory. He runs a palm over the edge of the table, and murmurs absently, "Where did I put my book?" 

Javert pads over before Cosette opens her mouth, and she giggles as he picks up a book from the windowseat and pushes it into Madeleine's hands. His fingers run over the raised dotted patterns on the cover, then he smiles and slaps a palm gently against Javert's flank. 

"Marius told me in school that people retire their guide dogs and give them away when they're old," Cosette lifts her chin. "We're never going to give Javert away, are we?"

"No," Madeleine agrees, stroking up over his neck, then tickling his ears. "I'm afraid he's here to stay, Cosette. He's part of the family now." 

Yes. He does like this pack.

IV.

This day had gone well, up until Madeleine had received a phone call, at which point he had paled visibly and chased all the other pack members out of his office. Javert stares, worried, scenting tension and fear and disliking it, and when Madeleine's phone call stops he makes another one.

"Gisquet?" Madeleine asks, his voice hushed, and Javert's ears prick up at the name of his old handler. "It's Madeleine - this is your secure line? Yes. It's - God, it's - the Patron-Minette. They called me. They have Cosette, God in Heaven, they- yes. All right. No. Will you- no I can't- you- yes. I will. I'll wait here for the next call. No, I…" Madeleine pauses, for a long moment, and when he glances in Javert's direction, his sightless eyes are red-rimmed. "Can you take Javert with you? Just a - I know that, Gisquet. It's just a whim. Please. All right." 

Javert snuffles at Madeleine's palm, worried, and Madeleine nervously rubs at his ears, then goes down awkwardly on one knee and hugs him tightly. Javert thumps his tail, curious, as Madeleine buries his face in his scruff. "I've asked you for many things, Javert," Madeleine whispers, "But I saved your life, didn't I? Now I'm asking you for one more favour, please. Help Cosette."

Cosette isn't in the building, Javert thinks, puzzled again - he would have scented her. Still, he lets out a low whine, and this seems to reassure Madeleine somehow - he gets up carefully onto his feet and gropes over the table to the intercom. "Alice? It's… no. Don't worry about it. A gentleman will be here shortly to pick up Javert. Could you get Fauchelevent up here, please."

Javert isn't pleased to be told to go with the driver pack mate, but he obeys, padding out of the building with the driver and waiting at the sidewalk. A car pulls up, eventually, and Gisquet is in the back seat - Javert almost wags his tail as he leaps in, though he does lick Gisquet's face. 

It doesn't help - Gisquet looks pale and tense, and he ignores Javert, talking in low tones with the two other men in the car. Javert recognises them as Gisquet's pack mates, and relaxes, watching the road.

They eventually come to a stop in front of a building, and Gisquet unbuckles his harness and handle, patting his flank. "Welcome back to the police, Javert," he says, gruffly. "Normally, I'll leave you in the car, just in case, but we both know that kids tend to have about a 48 hour window of survival once they're taken, and if the Patron-Minette is involved, I wouldn't even give little Cosette that much time. They've been out to get their own back on Madeleine ever since he tightened up the fight against organised crime."

It dawns on Javert that Cosette is in danger, and he waits restlessly as Gisquet opens the door and clicks his tongue, signalling Javert to get out. He follows at heel as they give the building a wide berth and come to a road crossing at the side. The building, Javert notes, is full of young humans, noisy and brash, and he keeps close to Gisquet, a little uncomfortable. He's so distracted that he almost misses Cosette's trail.

When he comes up short, Gisquet and the other two officers stop too, watching as he sniffs. "Seek," Gisquet tells him, and Javert snuffles at the ground, circling it, then heads briskly across the road. He waits at a spot on the far side, sniffing again, and Gisquet sighs.

"Mathieu, head into the school. This spot faces a set of windows, up there. Try and see if anyone saw what vehicle was parked here. Damon, I want you to… what is it, boy?" Gisquet asks, as Javert sniffs further. Some of the scent trails accompanying Cosette had broken off on foot, heading through the narrow alley. "Someone walked away?"

"Could be a blind," Damon points out.

"Or a lead. Stay here and keep me updated. Look for the vehicle. Javert, seek." 

Javert takes off after the trail. It doubles through several alleys, and once, over a fence that Gisquet had to lift him over, grunting under his weight, but eventually, just as he's about to get a little footsore, they come to an old building, surrounded by a rusty fence. Javert nearly heads over to the gate, but Gisquet grabs his collar, and he sits at Gisquet's feet. 

"I'm at an old paint factory," Gisquet whispers, into his phone as he makes another call. "Need you to run a search on the address. Yeah." He rattles off a line, then he adds, "I'm going to try and find a way in… yes, I fucking am. There might be a little _girl_ in there, I'm not going to wait for back-up. Sure, I'll be careful." He hangs up, then he pats Javert's flank. "Quiet now, boy."

They circle carefully around the fence, but there's no back route. "Gate's almost certainly being watched," Gisquet mutters, then he looks over when Javert pads up further. Around this section, the back wall of the factory is just over the fence, with a narrow wedge of a ventilation window that's a little open. He waits, and Gisquet glances at the window, then at Javert, then he sighs. "All right. It's going to be my badge on the line, but, all right. Just get to that little girl. I'll try to find another way in." 

It takes quite a bit of effort, but eventually, Javert manages to squeeze through the window, Gisquet quietly cursing under his breath as he heaves the dog up and through. Javert lands noiselessly on the ground. The factory is soaked with old scents that make Javert a little dizzy, but he pads quietly out of the disused, dusty room, keeping to the shadows. 

He finds the first human two rooms after, watching a cloudy window, a large gun cradled in his arms. Javert doesn't like the look of guns, or their sound or scent, and he hesitates only for a moment before padding away. It takes a few circuits before he finally finds a way around the humans - he climbs laboriously up to a stacked set of cabinets from a pile of crates, snuffling as he creeps up and into a ventilation shaft. 

It takes a few circuits, but Javert finally finds another exit to the shaft where the grille has fallen out. He listens for a while until he's satisfied that there's no humans in the room below, and slips out. It's an old, abandoned office room, papers still left where they've been strewn on the ground, and Javert's paws slip a little as he peeks out.

He's in luck - the office leads to an empty corridor with rooms on other side, all empty. Down the corridor, he can hear gruff voices, and he creeps closer to the large room at the end, peering in more carefully. 

Cosette is in a corner on a chair, her legs curled up and her arms around them, looking pale and frightened, but otherwise unharmed. A gunman stands watching the door and Cosette with his peripheral vision, and he's talking to someone Javert can't see, but can scent. Another male adult human.

"… still don't think it was a great idea to lie low here."

"You're not the one in charge of ideas, Babet," the other human retorts, his voice higher pitched, younger, perhaps. Smaller build, maybe. "Relax. The police will get bored dancing about roadblocks in a day or so, and then we can give them the slip and head up interstate."

"And then we start the plan?"

"Yeah. First we squeeze the 'gentle' mayor of all his money, and then we send her back to him in bits. Over time, of course. That'll teach him - and anyone - to mess with the Patron-Minette." The men laugh, even as Cosette shrinks back against the chair, and Javert fights the urge to growl. By the scents, there are at least four humans, heavily armed. He can't take his chances, especially not with Cosette about. 

Eventually, the other human walks away, and Javert strains his ears until he can't hear his footsteps any longer, then he peeks out again. This time, the gunman is facing the adjoining corridor fully - it's not a good position for an ambush, now that Javert will probably get into his peripheral vision if he gets out of the shadow: but Cosette spots him. Her mouth opens silently wide, then she shuts it quickly. Javert glances at the guard, but he isn't moving, and-

"Hey," Cosette says, shaky but firm, "I need the bathroom."

"Hold it in, Princess."

"I mean it," Cosette raises her voice. "I really, _really_ need to go."

As the human turns to regard her irritably, his back now faces Javert. Javert takes his chance - he leaps and lands heavily on the human with all his weight. The human's gasp cuts off abruptly as his head slams against the brick wall, then he goes limp on the ground. Javert bares his teeth, satisfied, then he nuzzles Cosette as she hugs him tightly. At least she's smart enough not to make any noise, though her shoulders shake a little, then she stands up.

"Where now?" she asks Javert in a whisper, and he pulls away, nudging at the door to the adjoining corridor. Cosette nods, helping him close it noiselessly, locking it and jamming her chair under the doorknob, then she follows him out into the other corridor.

It takes a few attempts, but they finally find a room with a window that they can both reach, although its glass is reinforced by a steel grille and can't be smashed outward. The window is rusted shut, though, and even as Cosette looks around for something that they can use against the latch, Javert hears the sound of shouting, then a shoulder slamming against a locked door. Cosette jumps, looking around wildly, then she runs for an old fire extinguisher racked against the wall. Grabbing it, she hits the base against the lock. It doesn't give, and she sucks in a sob as she tries again. Javert waits at the door, teeth bared. He's ready.

There's the distant crash of a door being smashed open, and Cosette flinches. She raises the extinguisher again, but Javert darts over to nudge her, and under his nudging, she reluctantly folds herself under a table adjacent to the wall, abandoning the fire extinguisher. Javert waits beside the door, teeth bared, swallowing his growl as he hears the other humans react with exclamations and anger as they discover their fallen pack mate. 

"… taken by surprise… by a little girl?" the young one snarls, "Fucking useless!" 

"She can't have gone far," another man grunts. "Mont, you stay here. Watch the door. Guel, with me."

Javert can hear them checking the rooms methodically, one by one. He glances over to check on Cosette, and she's huddled up, quiet and still. Good. 

"Little girl!" Guel snarls, his voice a little muffled by distance, "Come out, come out, wherever you are! Hey, Claq. You know what we do with bad girls?"

"You've been a naughty little girl," Claq drawls, just as loudly, "Maybe you want to cut your losses, kid. There's no way out of here." Guel begins to laugh, and Javert's hackles rise - he barely manages to swallow his growl. A boot shuffles outside the door of the room that they are in, and Cosette presses back against the wall, so pale that her face is almost white. "You don't want to find out how nasty we can be to bad little girls, Mademoiselle."

When Guel walks in, still laughing, Javert leaps. This time, he doesn't bother to stun - he goes for the throat. Guel's shout of surprise turns into a gurgle, and he drops, his fingers pressing uselessly at his throat, the gun clattering away. Javert doesn't worry at him - he's already going for the second man, a low bubbling growl in his throat, and he lunges even as Claq fires a pistol at him repeatedly. The bullets sear into him, but momentum keeps him going - he slams into Claq and knocks him hard enough against the wall to stun him. 

Shaking his head, Javert tries to get up - there's one more human - but then his paws give, and he whines, frustrated, slipping as he tries to get up again. Cosette has run out of her hiding place, and he growls at her, but she ignores him - she's hugging his bloodied scruff and weeping. "Javert! Javert!" 

The last human comes towards them, gun pointed at the both of them, and his lip curls as he surveys the damage. Javert tries to get up again, but his legs won't even move under him this time, and the young human - Mont - laughs. "Well, well. Where were you hiding that dog, little girl?"

"You've killed him!" Cosette wails, "How could you!"

"Looks like Claq didn't finish the job," Mont retorts, raising his pistol, and even as Cosette throws herself wildly over Javert and Javert whimpers as he tries to get up again, there's a gunshot and a faint tinkle of glass. Mont staggers back, for a moment, and then he collapses onto his knees, and to the side. He's been shot in the shoulder, and when Javert raises his head weakly to the window, he can barely make out an anxious-looking Gisquet through the grille and the bullet-cracked glass.

"Hey! Cosette Madeleine? I'm Inspector Gisquet of the Sûreté. Are you hurt?"

"Javert's hurt!" 

"I know, _merde_ , I - help's coming. I'm going to keep trying to get in. How many more people are there?"

Javert barely listens. He's growing sleepy, to his annoyance, and despite his best efforts, he slides into the dark.

IV.

Javert hates being injured. He's picked up minor injuries here and there during his career in the police, but this is the worst that he's gotten, and he mopes as he's invalided home to Madeleine's house, feeling numbed and dizzy from the medicines. Cosette fusses over him, but Javert is too annoyed with his life to discourage her. Humans have a strange way of treating the sick - a large plastic cone has been fitted over his neck, preventing him from being able to scratch at his ears, and it is seriously frustrating, not to mention humiliating.

He's being punished somehow - or at least, that was his first impression, though this doesn't seem to fit in with all the praise and attention from not only Gisquet and his old pack mates, but also Madeleine, who takes every opportunity to pet him and make sure that he's comfortable. Javert sulks. He's off-duty, wearing the cone, and he hates his life. 

"Maybe he's hurting," Cosette says worriedly, as she peers at him. "He's very unhappy."

Madeleine glances anxiously at Gisquet's general direction from where he's seated beside Javert on the couch, and Gisquet shrugs from the armchair. "It's the cone. He hates it. Always has."

"Then we should take it off," Cosette says quickly.

"You heard the vet, Cosette," Madeleine notes gently. "He'll pick at his bandages, and then he'll never get well." 

"It's very good of you to take leave to look after him," Gisquet says doubtfully, "But surely your duties… the dog hospital offered to-"

"They put their patients in cages," Cosette interrupts, indignant, and Madeleine coughs, then he seems to think better of trying to explain, and sighs. 

"Surely he deserves to be pampered and treated like a hero after what he has done for my daughter."

"Of course, Monsieur," Gisquet agrees hastily, "And in fact, the Commissioner mentioned, ah, that perhaps Javert can re-enter the K-9 unit again after he is recovered."

"No!" Cosette disagrees fiercely. 

"Cosette," Madeleine says gently, "Javert is a police dog. I think he was bored with us. If being in the police will make him happier-"

"They tried to put him down the last time!" Cosette snaps, indignant, and her hands tighten on Javert's scruff. "And don't you need him? He's your guide dog! You said that he was family! And even if you don't want him, Papa, _I_ want him."

"It's not a question of what _we_ want," Madeleine murmurs patiently, but Gisquet starts to chuckle. 

"I suppose that, of course, we cannot deprive Mademoiselle Cosette of her beloved pet." 

She glowers at him, not appeased in the least. "Javert isn't a pet, he's a member of the family." 

"Of course. My apologies." Gisquet smiles wryly, getting up from his armchair, approaching Madeleine. "Monsieur, I must return to my post and let the Commissioner know that he will be disappointed. Mademoiselle, I wish you a quick recovery. And Javert," Gisquet reaches over to tickle his ears, "Good work."

Javert thumps his tail in acknowledgement, and watches as Gisquet leaves the house. Cosette locks him out, looking satisfied, and heads back over to fling her arms around him again. It hurts a little, and Javert tries to shift away, experimentally, but then Madeleine runs a palm down his spine, then again, and he relaxes, especially when Cosette, after a few tries, manages to get the cone off his head. 

"Cosette," Madeleine murmurs reprovingly, as he gropes in the air over Javert's neck and realizes what she has done.

"Javert won't bite his bandages. Or if he tries to, I'll get him to stop." Cosette pets him, and Javert rests his muzzle against Madeleine's knee, a little sleepy, thumping his tail again against the couch when Madeleine scratches at his scruff, under his collar. The world is as it should be. This is his pack now, and Javert is content.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh... I think this is the longest gen rated no pairing fic I have ever written, lol.
> 
> If you want to discuss plot bunnies, I'm on twitter @manic_intent and tumblr at manic-intent.tumblr.com :)


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